


settle our bones (over time)

by mmarvelously



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Forehead Kisses, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Ignoring Endgame because we can, Insomnia, Nightmares, Not Canon Compliant, Parent Tony Stark, Past Abuse, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Tony Stark, Sleepwalking, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Peter Parker, Soft Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, platonic bathing??
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-02 20:31:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16312208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmarvelously/pseuds/mmarvelously
Summary: The story of how Peter and Tony rediscover themselves and each other in the long journey called life.





	1. push and pull

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, I'm a new writer and I'd love some feedback. Im aware that my writing is far from excellent; it's never been my strongsuit. But I'm here (idk how long or if I'm staying) for fun and to express my ideas.
> 
> -V

_Bye Peter, I’ll see you next week._ _I love you._

_Bye Peter, I love you_

_I love you_

_I love_

_I-_

——————————————————————

“Hello?” asked Peter into the old house phone after stumbling into the kitchen at one am, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Is this the Parker household?” came the voice.

“Yeah.” said Peter, immediately alert. Something about the woman’s voice made his blood run cold.

“May Parker passed away this morning at Mt. Sinai Que—“

Peter slammed the phone back into the receiver.

_Bye Peter, I’ll see you next week._ _I love you._

_I love you too May._

——————————————————————

Peter was running. He didn’t remember staggering out of the apartment door, only grabbing his phone and clumsily tying his beat up converse. The streets blurred has he ran down the sidewalk, only pausing to check the street signs.

 _May. May. May. May. May. May. May._ was the only thing going through his head. Tears streamed down his face, drying on his face just as new ones poured out from his eyes.

Peter passed the old diner where he and May used to eat every Thursday and broke down. He crumpled against the brick wall, sobbing and shaking. Burying his face in his hands, he rocked back and forth trying to alleviate the pain spreading from his heart. Looking up at the night sky, he saw nothing but grey skies and buildings. Never in his life had he felt more trapped.

“May, _please_ ,” he begged to the sky, as if she could hear him. “I st-I still need you, _May_ ,” he cried, tears again spilling out of his brown eyes.

Raking his hands through his sweaty hair, questions began to burn through his mind.

_How will I pay rent?_

_Where am I gonna live?_

_How am I gonna plan the funeral?_

_How will I pay for food, clothing anything?_

_Should I tell Mr. Stark?_

Peter’s breathing reached hysterical as he hyperventilated just _thinking about these things._ Peter clutched at his chest, _OhmyGodOhmyGodOhmyGod I can’t breathe_ , he thought, as he frantically fought for breath.

In a desperate cry for help, he fumbled in his back pocket for his phone, ready to call just about _anyone_ to take he pain away. The first contact his eyes fell on was Happy’s. With trembling fingers and tears blurring his vision, it took him four tries to call him.

The line rang three times before Happy picked up.

“Kid, now is not the time. Why the hell are you awake at one? I don’t care if an old lady gives you a churro alright? _Too much information._ Good night kid, I’m—“

“Happy _please_ help please help me May’s dead, she’s dead I’m lost I ca—“ Peter babbled into the phone. He heaved a large breath, still shaking and crying.

“ _Jeez_ Kid, alright I’m gonna get you okay? Are yo- Are you okay? Where are you?” The concern was evident in his voice.

“Th- the co-corner of 6th a-and 24th.” he barely managed to say. He was now sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest, still leaning against the brick building.

“Hey. Stay put. Okay?” Happy said, softening his voice. “I’m gonna bring Tony, okay?”

“Just- hurry.” whispered Peter, voice void of energy. He hung up shortly after, letting his head thud against the wall. The pain felt good momentarily, but soon a real headache had formed behind his eyes. He remembered how May used to run her hand through his hair when he had migraines and a fresh wave of tears spilled from his eyes. He took a couple shuddering breaths, completely spent from the last thirty minutes. His tear-filled eyes fluttered shut and before he knew it, he was fast asleep.


	2. a little broken, little new

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long as heck wait, bad as heck chapter

After Peter hung up, Happy was dialing Tony.

  
“Hap, _why the hell are you calling me in the literal ass-crack of morning?_ ” Tony complained, although he sounded wide awake. “I swear if you’re butt-dialing me—“

  
“Tony,” Happy started, “I’m coming to pick you up right now. This is gonna be hard, but May’s dead. The kid’s aunt is dead. He called me he’s out there somewhere he’s lost I think that’s what he said—“

  
“ _What_ ?” Nonono, Peter, Tony thought. May? Dead? Tony broke himself out of a stream of thoughts and cleared his mind. “Okay. You need to hurry.” His voice was steadier than he thought it would be. He hung up abruptly, letting his head hang onto his chest, and allowed himself to be sucked into the past.

  
He saw Maria, patting his cheek, praising him for his excellent academics. Maria, singing him to sleep, after Howard slapped him across the face for talking back. Maria, smiling, saying “ _I love you Anthony_ ” Then, he remembered the phone call, and how much it hurt, knowing that he never got to see his mom again, and he remembers the drinking and the pain. The horrible pain that he drowned in every day, wishing she could sing him to an eternal sleep one final time. He would have sold his soul for that. He probably would still sell his soul for that right at that instant.

  
Shaking himself, he stood up, cursing himself for wasting time, but was sucked into another memory again.

  
Howard stood over him, screaming in his face. Young Tony could smell the alcohol on his breath and could see the bottle of amber liquid clutched in his father’s right fist.

  
“You’re useless. Do you understand?! Absolutely useless.” Young Tony’s eyes watered and his lower lip trembled. “Are you crying?” Howard grabbed his collar, nearly lifting him off the ground. “Stark’s don’t cry.” He said menacingly. Then, he slammed his fist, along with the bottle, into the side of Tony’s head.

  
Tony sucked in a large breath and held it. He couldn’t imagine Peter in foster care. What if he was beaten? What if the foster parents were like Howard? _No._ He couldn’t let that happen. Not to Peter. Peter who was so full of innocence and energy every day, Peter, whose brown eyes shone with excitement every time he got to work with Tony. The Peter who almost cried when Tony gave him _books_ for his birthday and the Peter who deserved the world was _not_ going to foster care.

  
_What the hell am I gonna do?_ Tony thought, letting out his breath. _Me? Take care of him? What if I’m just like Howard?_ Sighing in frustration, Tony hurried out the door, again cursing himself for strolling down memory lane. _I’ll figure it out later.”_ he promised himself. He grabbed a jacket and stepped into the elevator. As the doors closed, he considered, briefly, exiting the elevator and drinking himself half to death. But, he quickly rid his head of the thought, ashamed for even thinking about it.

  
He stepped out the door into the cold November air, walking briskly to the black Audi Happy sat in. He opened the passenger door and barely sat down before Happy was pulling into the street. Tony, for the first time, sat in complete silence, contemplating what he would say. He sighed and viciously rubbed at his eyes, until he saw colorful dots clouding behind his eyelids.

  
“Don’t overthink it Tony,” Happy said, sneaking a look at his boss. “You’re good with him. Okay? I’ve seen it. You’r—I mean—Just, “ Happy floundered, at a loss for the right words.

“Where is he gonna go, Hap? Foster care?” Tony scoffed. “It’s not an option. But.. But what if _I_ took care of him?” Tony asked quietly.

“Tony.. I won’t tell you what to do, but.. if you want to, if you _truly_ feel that it’s the right way to go, then yes, I think you should.” Happy briefly looked at his friend, and smiled for assurance.

“Thank you.” Said Tony softly. “I’ll.. give it some time, I just—I just need to think. I don’t want to be like Howard,” he said suddenly.

“But you’re _not_ like him, Tony, I see you with Peter almost every day. He really looks up to you. I think—I think he sees you as a dad.”

Tony scoffed for the second time that morning, looking out the window. “Sure, Happy, he hero-worships me, there’s a difference. _Why_ would he waste his time with me?” He moodily turned his attention to the buildings passing by.

Happy sighed. “Tony, we’re gonna be there in a couple of minutes, just.. you’ll know what to say. He needs comfort right now okay?”

Tony didn’t answer and stared out the window into the dark night that was occasionally permeated by a streetlight. Within three minutes, Happy had parked on a desolate, nondescript street in Queens. Tony moved quickly to open the door, feeling a sense of hurry to find Peter.

“He should be near that diner,” Happy said, pointing to the corner across them. “I’ll wait in the car.”

Tony realized that Happy parked in such a way so that he wouldn’t be able to see Peter and Tony, giving them some privacy. He felt a sense of gratitude toward his friend, reminding himself to up his pay as soon as he could. Without looking both ways, Tony half-jogged half-speed walked across the street, shoving his hands into his pockets at the stinging air. Walking towards the diner, he stopped straight in his tracks at the sight of Peter, slumped against the wall, only wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. His eyes were swollen, presumably from crying, and his nose and cheeks were red from the chilly air. In his sleep, he was shaking and shivering. _Peter,_ Tony thought.

 

* * *

 Peter awoke to a hand gently shaking his shoulder. He shivered, realizing for the first time, how cold it was. He lifted his hand, trying to shove the intruder away from him. “Stop..” he mumbled. He was tired, and his aunt was _dead_. The hand gently brushed the hair out of his face.

“Peter?” came the gentle –and familiar—voice. The presence next to him was warm, and Peter lifted his head and blinked blearily at the figure kneeling in front of him. _Mr.Stark._

“Mister Stark?” he asked. Fresh tears welled up in his eyes at the sight of Tony, gratitude for the man overwhelming him. He sat up, choking on his words. “I’m—I’’m sorry, Mister Stark, she’s d--dead she’s at the h--hospital and I don’t kn--know what to,” he sobbed, forgetting why he should be ashamed for crying. “I didn’t—didn’t know w-who to c-call and I saw H-Happy’s numbe---“ He was cut off by Tony’s gentle voice.

“Peter, _it’s okay_. You did the right thing by calling Happy.” Peter showed no sign of stopping his heart-breaking sobs so Tony did the one thing he’d never thought he’d do in his entire life. He gathered Peter into his arms, cradling his head against his chest. Tony buried his nose into the mop of curls sitting on top of Peters head and squeezed him tightly, letting him sob into his chest.

“You’re going to be okay,” he said in a low voice, and kept saying soft reassurances until Peter’s crying slowed. Peter sniffed quietly a couple of times and quickly pulled off of Tony, a small trail of tears still streaming down his face. _He had just cried on Tony Stark._

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, scrubbing at his face. “I just—I just ruined your shirt and you d-didn’t even ha-ve to c-come---“ he started, but was interrupted. “ _Hey._ ” Tony said, taking off his jacket, ready to give it to Peter. “No one told me to come. I _care_ about you, understand?”

This seemed to make Peter cry a bit harder, but he nodded, meeting Tony’s soft eyes with his red, tear-filled ones. Tony’s breath nearly hitched; he had never seen Peter like this before. He looked so young and vulnerable that it made his heart ache. Taking his jacket, he draped it over Peter’s shoulders and helped stuff his arms into the sleeves. Despite the newfound warmth, Peter still shivered.

“Let’s get to the car okay?” said Tony, gently helping Peter get to his feet. He looped an arm around Peter’s waist and guided him to the door. Instead of sliding into the passenger’s seat, he sat next to Peter, doing his seatbelt for him, as he was staring straight ahead, unresponsive.

‘Is he okay?’ mouthed Happy. Tony nodded, sitting back in his seat. He noticed for the first time, a blanket sitting on the seat next to him. He looked up at Happy, who nodded.

'Thanks,' he mouthed. Tony wrapped the blanket around Peter, who’s eyes were drooping. He was clearly exhausted. Happy turned the car on, immediately turning up the heat. Tony gently maneuvered Peter so that he was half laying on Tony’s chest. Peter sighed softly, taking in the warmth and comfort after what felt like hours of loneliness and cold. Letting his eyes fall shut, he let himself be carried away to sleep by the gentle movement of the car and Tony’s heartbeat.

 

* * *

The ride back to the tower was relatively uneventful. Tony held Peter in his arms, a strange—but not entirely bad feeling. As the streetlights lit the interior of the car in soft colors, Tony looked down on Peter’s face. He looked so much like a little kid that Tony couldn’t help but smile sadly and ruffle Peter’s baby-soft hair. He again, for the umpteenth time that night, allowed himself to be pulled into a vortex of memories.

_”Y’know Mister Stark?” Peter asked. They were sitting side by side in a nest of blankets looking at the New York City skyline from Tony’s penthouse roof. The sun had just set, but streaks of orange and red painted the sky, receding to darkness that was occasionally permeated by a twinkling star. The air was cool, a slight wind blowing through the air. They both breathed in the cool air, living in the peaceful moment._

_“What, kid?” Tony asked, smirking slightly and turning his face to Peter. Peter’s face was illuminated by the after-glow of a sunset, the stars twinkling in his bright eyes._

_“Y’know that really cheesy saying that’s like ‘whatever you do, wherever you go, I’d follow you’? Peter’s face turned a bit more serious. “Well, I'd walk with you until the end of the earth-"_

_“And past it.” Tony finished, reaching out to fluff Peter’s hair. He would always remember this moment, and remember the happiness. He knew what Peter had looked like that day: happy. He often thought back on that day when he was feeling down. "Thanks bud."_

_“Anyways Mister Stark, happy birthday. Aren’t you like, sixty?” He asked playfully._

_Tony shoved Peter a bit, knocking him over. “Shut up, aren’t you like, six?”_

_Peter pouted as he righted himself._ _“Uh, isn’t this child abuse?” he grumbled, although there was humor behind his words._

_Tony laughed. “Whatever you say buddy.” They then sat there until the night turned dark and the lights from the buildings and streets encompassed them. There weren't many words exchanged that night, but words weren't needed to communicate; their presence next to each other as they watched the stars spoke beyond anything else, and the universe seemed suspended in the fabric of those very moments, each second an infinity, stretching into something timeless._

Happy’s voice shook him back into the present day. “Boss, we’re here.” Tony looked around. He hadn’t even noticed that they had reached the tower. The entire car ride had been a blur, and he honestly could not recall coming to a stop. Clearing his throat, he righted himself and sat up, pausing when he remembered that Peter was sleeping literally right on top of him. Tony sized him up, deliberating whether he would be able to carry him. Tony carefully took his seatbelt off and lifted Peter into his arms, still wrapped in the blanket Happy brought. Stepping out of the car, he followed Happy into the tower.

As they neared the elevator, Happy cleared his throat and paused. “Goodnight Tony,” he said, looking like he wanted to say more, but was unsure of his words. Tony frowned a bit. _Happy was leaving? Could he really do this by himself?_

Gathering courage, he took a breath. “Night, Hogan.” He turned abruptly and stepped into the elevator, watching his reflection as the doors closed. At the bright lights in the elevator, Peter stirred, cracking his eyes open and looking around. His gaze fell on Tony.

“Wh-where am I?” he asked, voice scratchy and soft. “We’re at the tower,” Tony said shortly, cringing internally at how hard his voice sounded. _Can’t I do anything right?_

“I gonna take you to my penthouse, and you’re gonna sleep as long as you can okay?” he said gentler. Peter made a noncommittal sound, already drifting off, his eyelashes fluttering on his cheeks. He looked untroubled in his sleep. Tony waited for the rest of the ride up, listening to Peter’s soft breaths. Friday didn’t announce the floor when the doors opened, and Tony felt a wave of gratitude toward his AI. He made his way through the floor plan and decided to take Peter to his personal bedroom, and none of the guest bedrooms were ready (or existent, really), and didn’t want Peter to sleep on a couch.

How he managed to open the door was a mystery, but once he was inside, he laid Peter on the bed and slipped his shoes off. He rolled Peter around as he pulled the blankets back. Tony tucked him in, running his hand through Peter’s curls once before pulling back. _He’s not mine_ he thought sadly, with a bit of bitterness.  _I could never be a good father._

“G’night kid,” he said quietly before leaving the room and shutting the door silently behind him. Tony walked to the kitchen for a drink, running a hand down his face. He glanced at the clock. _3:47am_. Tony let out a long sigh. He looked at his hearty selection of alcohol and considered drinking himself into oblivion so he could forget the fact that he still needed to call the hospital, plan a funeral, and take care of a fifteen-year-old kid. _No._ He needed to be sober in the morning for Peter.

So, he poured himself some apple juice instead. He was too proud to admit that he had a drinking problem, but in his defense, it had gotten much better after he had gotten back together with Pepper. _Pepper._ Groaning with frustration, Tony got up and decided to drown himself in work and deal with everything in the morning.

He felt slightly guilty for putting important things off, but he doubted he could handle any phone calls at that moment. Punching in the security code into his workshop, he immediately asked Friday to put on AC DC and to notify him if Peter woke up.

Pulling up specs from multiple projects, he swiped through them until he found one that caught his eye: Peter’s web-shooters.

So, Tony threw himself into work, not paying attention to the time until Friday announced that it was seven in the morning. He stood up, wincing at the creaks emitted from his bones. He took a quick shower in the bathroom he had installed in the back of his workshop and threw on some clean clothes.

He made his way into the kitchen, grateful that Peter had slept through the night. In the back of his head, he remembered that _healthy, normal, people_ actually ate breakfast and did not consider whiskey as a breakfast food. Tony made his way through the kitchen and stood in front of the kitchen cabinet for a good ten minutes trying to decide what was the healthiest, quickest, and easiest meal to make. Deciding on pancakes, he looked at the clock, hoping that Peter would sleep for a couple more hours.

 

* * *

Peter woke up, and kept his eyes closed, feeling the soft blankets and pillows. He was laying in the most comfortable bed he’d ever slept in. Cracking an eye open, he looked around. The furniture and class of the room spoke loudly and Peter concluded that he was in Tony’s room.

Suddenly, all the memories from the night before crashed down on him, and he was left nearly gasping for air. He couldn’t help but start crying again, tears slowly making the way down his face. _Mr. Stark’s gonna be mad. I’m sleeping in his bed, and he’s gonna kick me out eventually. Is it even legal for me to stay here? He’s probably annoyed at me. I’m just an annoying teenager that’s taking up his personal space and time._

Peter stopped his inner monologue at the utter feeling of numbness that had crept up inside of him. He flopped back, laying back down, tears now running into his hair. He opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling and the world seemed to disappear around him, and he felt like he wasn’t in his body anymore, that he was floating. He heard the door open, but didn’t turn his head to look.

“Peter?” Tony’s voice came. The sound shook him out of his stupor and he turned his head and tear-filled eyes to Tony. When they made eye contact, Peter could have sworn he saw a deep sadness in Tony’s eyes. He internally scoffed, reminding himself that Mr. Stark didn’t care and that he was doing this out of moral obligation. I mean, they had gotten very close, but really? Tony probably didn’t want to take care of him.

“Hey,” Tony said softly, walking toward Peter at the sight of his tears. He sat on the edge of the bed and put his hand on Peter’s shoulder and squeezed it lightly. At the kind touch, Peter’s eyes burned with tears, he sat up, arms open, wanting -- _needing_ for someone to say that everything was going to be alright. To his surprise, Tony didn’t hesitate to hug him, one had going to his back and the other reaching for the back of Peter’s head, holding him close.

“You’re okay,” Tony said, while rubbing Peter’s back in what he hoped was a comforting manner. He gently rocked back and forth, remembering how Maria used to do that while he cried. Tony was surprised by a small voice coming from his chest.

“Are you gonna leave Mr. Stark?” Peter asked. He sounded scared. Tony frowned. “No, kid, I’m not, okay? I’m never leaving.” After a couple of seconds, Tony asked, “Why do you ask, kid?”

Peter sniffled, and said in an even smaller voice, “I’m m-making you take care of me, right? You-you don’t have to and I know I’m annoying and—“ Tony jerked back, holding Peter at arm’s length way from him.

“ _No,_ no, no, no, Peter,” Tony said, trying to get a look at Peter’s face. Peter let his head hang, too afraid to meet Tony’s eyes. _He’s so mad at you. You’re screwed Parker,_ he thought. Tony took a hand and brought it under Peter’s chin, tilting his head up. Peter’’s incredibly emotional eyes met Tony’s angr-- _kind_ eyes. Peter was taken aback.

“You’re—you’re not mad?” he whispered.

“Gosh, Peter, no. Look at me okay? I’m gonna say something very important and you’re going to listen to me.” Without taking his hand away from Peter, he started.

“No one is making me do this okay?” he prompted, inducing a nod from Peter. “Kid, _Peter,_ I care about you. There’s no doubt about that.” At this, Peter’s eyes watered again, this time not with sadness. “We’re gonna figure this out together, okay?” Tony said, voice thick with emotion. He’d never thought that a _kid_ would make him cry.

Peter nodded, causing tears to drip down his chin and land on the gray duvet. To lighten the mood, Tony cracked a half-smile. “Come on, buddy. I made pancakes.” Peter wiped his eyes and stood up, smiling a bit on his part.

“You? Cook?” he asked. “Is that smoke I smell?” “Yes.” Tony deadpanned, eliciting a small laugh from Peter. He counted it as a success. Peter followed Tony into the sun-light kitchen, rubbing his eyes at the bright light. He sat at the kitchen island, letting his legs hang off the chair. Tony returned from the stove with a plate stacked high with pancakes and set it down in front of Peter with a _clack_. Peter sat unmoving, staring at empty space on the countertop in front of him.

“Mr. Stark?” he asked timidly, still focusing on nothing. He then flicked his eyes to the general direction of Tony and finally dragged his eyes to meet Tony’s.

“Yeah, kid?” said Tony, sipping from a large MIT mug.

“C-can I go see May?” he asked finally.

Tony set the mug down and in the seat opposite of Peter’s. He sighed. “If you want to, yeah. You can go today okay? Just tell me the name of the hospital.”

Peter nodded. “Mount Sinai.” After looking as if he was going to ask about something else, he built up the courage and asked, “Mr. Stark? What should I do about the funeral?”

When Tony didn’t answer for a few seconds, he blurted, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked, I-I keep asking about stuff I’m sorry.”

“I’ll take care of it okay? And stop with the ‘sorrys. There’s no need to apologize.” Tony saw that Peter was about to cry again so he added, “It’s okay, you can ask me for anything, you know, that right?”

Peter quickly nodded and quietly blinked the tears from his eyes. Picking up the fork Tony had handed him, he began to mechanically eat. Tony had pulled out his phone and was about to make a phone call.

‘I’m calling the hospital’ he mouthed at Peter’s curious look. Tony stood up and walked into the living room, out of ear-shot for most people, but after all, Peter was Spiderman, meaning that he could eavesdrop.

Deciding that he was too tired to attempt to listen to Tony’s conversation, he abandoned his pancakes and situated himself on a couch that was sitting near the table. He laid down, still exhausted. His last thought was: _I don’t even know how May died._

 

* * *

Tony walked back into the kitchen after his phone call that involved a very surprised secretary to find Peter out on a couch. He picked up a decorative blanket from the couch draped it across Peter’s body. Sitting down at the end of the couch, he pulled out his phone, deciding that he had procrastinated enough on calling Pepper. The line rang three times before Pepper picked up.

“Tony,” she started in a reprimanding tone. “I was in a _meeting_. You know, one regarding _your_ company that _I’m_ running?”

Tony winced. “Yeah Pep… Listen, I-I have something going on right now, it’s important.”

“You got someone pregnant!?” Pepper exclaimed.

“Okay first, I’m insulted that your first guess was that I had sex with someone other than you, we’re together for goodness sake, and second, _No_.” Tony said incredulously.

“Tony... what,” Pepper said, sounding very exasperated.

“Do you remember Peter, my intern?” he started.

“Sure, the one from Midtown Tech?” she asked.

“Yeah..well.. his aunt died, and he’s currently sleeping in our living room.”

“ _What_? Why Tony? What about his family? Doesn’t his parents know?” Pepper sounded strained.

“Pepper, he doesn’t _have_ immediate family,” Tony stressed, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “He’d called Happy last night, _crying_ , and I found him passed out on a random street, and I took him in. Honey, I-I don’t want him to go into foster care, haven’t you met him? He doesn’t deserve that. I want to adopt him,” Tony finished, taking a deep breath after his rant.

“Tony..” Pepper started.

“Okay, I know what you’re gonna say, that I’m not ready or responsible and that I’m making this decision too fa-“ Tony was interrupted.

“No, Tony, I just—I just,” Pepper paused. “I just hope you know that this is _permanent_. Okay? A kid isn’t something you neglect when you get bored of taking care of him.” She said carefully, “I know how much you love him, and I want you to be happy. I know you’re probably worried, but remember that you’re not Howard, and that you’re worthy to be Peter’s guardian.”

Tony felt a lump in his throat. He cleared it, swallowing down tears. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “I-I gotta go Pep.”

“Bye Tony, I love you,” said Pepper.

“Love you too.” Tony responded, listening to the call end. He turned his head, looking at Peter’s sleeping form. Tony’s heart ached for the kid, and wished that he could shield him away from the world. Smiling sadly, Tony set a gentle hand on Peter’s shoulder and then ran it up and down his back. _You and I might not know it yet, but we’re in for a big journey, kiddo._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah sorry for the wait school is rough got three tests some quizzes and five million projects due this week

**Author's Note:**

> I really don't know if I'll update soon -or again- but who knows? Maybe I'll stay :)
> 
> Edit: I started chapter two and I'm on 2k words. I'll post when I have a solid 5k-8k. :)) (MAYBE this weekend idk. Also, I live in the US on the east coast so times might be diff.)


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